


hairbrush

by Anonymous



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, F/M, Fluff and Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 13:28:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29950686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Pidge, having just finished her bath, is at a loss: where ohwhereis her hairbrush? Hunk, shocked and slightly embarrassed at the sight of Pidge in a towel, reports.
Relationships: Hunk/Pidge | Katie Holt
Kudos: 1
Collections: anonymous





	hairbrush

**Author's Note:**

> **Anonymous asked:** (whispers into the wind) hidge + hairbrush ; v ;
> 
> the song featured is the hairbrush song from veggietales: https://youtu.be/LtHr7gluh08

_“Oh, wheeere is my hairbrush?”_ was not entirely a song Hunk expected to hear sung out of the communal showers this early in the morning, but it was definitely a song that was sung, and in an oddly feminine voice, no less. _“Oh, wheeeeere is my hairbrush?”_

He poked his head in the door, unthinking, and called back, “I think I saw a hairbrush back there— uh.”

 _Uh_ was a much more graceful noise than Hunk’s locked-up throat had any business making, but those were definitely Pidge’s pale, freckly shoulders and long, gangly legs left unclothed by the sunny yellow towel wrapped around her middle. She was starting to grow her hair out again, and the water-darkened ends feathered delicately over her neck and shoulders, curling around the smooth curve of her cheek and the line of her jaw. 

She looked over her shoulder, beaming when she saw him there, and sprung to her feet, and _oh god that towel didn’t cover much_ — 

Hunk would avert his eyes, but it was like watching a high-speed car crash. Pidge’s slim thighs and modest curves were about as hypnotic as shattering glass and crumpling metal.

 _“Back theeeeere is my hairbrush,”_ she sang cheerfully, then, in a speaking tone: “Thanks, Hun–… –k…”

She realized the problem with this situation about ten seconds too late, eyes falling to her scantly clad bosom then growing wide in horror. Her blush was at three-alarm level before Hunk found his voice again.

“It’s on Lance’s vanity!” he choked out, wrenching himself firmly to the other side of the wall. “Sorry, sorry!”

“It’s good!” Pidge squeaked, sounding utterly mortified. “It’s fine! Um! Thank you!”

“Anytime,” he said weakly. “M-maybe without the walking-in next time.”

“Tha-a-at would be great.” The noise was halfway to a whimper. There was a beat, and then she added, “Now, uh, could I leave, please?”

“Going, going, I’m going.” And so he was. “Sorry.”

Crawling back to his room with his tail between his legs, Hunk resisted the urge to thump his head against one of the walls as he passed by.

That situation dealt with, now all he needed was something to remove the (oddly alluring) sight of Pidge in a towel from the backs of his eyelids.


End file.
